


Second Act

by bluelineblues



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen, bot!feels, that damn movie trailer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelineblues/pseuds/bluelineblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This one listed 39 Cliffside Drive, Malibu as the return address.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Act

**Author's Note:**

> The characters and settings depicted within belong to Marvel. Coherence is entirely due to the efforts of my wonderful beta reader Sarea. Any remaining mistakes are mine alone.
> 
> The Iron Man 3 trailer released this week did a handy job of Jossing the last chapter of Wartime Cruising. I still intend to finish that story once I make some decisions about the direction in which it should go now, but I couldn't even think about it with this scene clawing at my brain, demanding to see the light of day.
> 
> To reiterate what I've said elsewhere on the Interwebs, _Damn it, Marvel. You're going to give me grey hair._

The Malibu house had been Tony Stark's first tangible declaration of himself as an individual, armed with self-determination and the intent to use it. It was the first evidence that he was more than the scion of the late, great Howard Stark, more than the default heir and successor to the helm of Stark Industries. If the press, the financial sector, and the SI Board of Directors had thought that it was simply the grandiose behavior of an immature schoolboy with too much money for his own good, Tony hadn't seen fit to correct their short-sightedness.

In the moment of crisis, when the missiles hit and the structure began to give way, he could only focus on Pepper's safety, and the possibility of keeping himself alive. But after, when the fighting was over and there was a moment to breathe, he found himself picking his way across the debris field that was the remnant of the parts of the mansion that hadn't slid into the Pacific. For all that Rhodey and Pepper had said about Tony being more than the sum of his father’s legacy plus his own poor life decisions, in this moment, he felt the stranglehold of responsibility constricting around his throat.

Pepper wouldn't have been in danger if not for the Ten Rings. The trail of liability wove through Stane's meddling, backdoor deals, Iron Man's first mission in Gulmira, through the mountains and deserts of Afghanistan, to a single point of origin.

Yinsen had saved his life, and he'd refused to build the Jericho for Raza. “Don't waste it,” Yinsen had said. And from that moment on, Tony had thrown his considerable assets and intelligence into something other than weapons. But evil still knocked on his door, and it wasn't even space aliens this time – this one listed 39 Cliffside Drive, Malibu as the return address.

And who had paid for it this time? Innocent civilians. Happy. Pepper. JARVIS and You and Dummy--

Tony looked down at his feet, attempting to banish the hard lump in his throat through force of will alone. A glimpse of hot-rod red glinted at him from amongst the chunks of concrete.

He moved the rubble aside with his booted foot, revealing a gauntlet from the Mark IV. If this was still here, then perhaps-- there was a chance-- “Bots!” he yelled with as much force as he could shepherd past the lump in his throat. He listened for several seconds, hoping to hear an arm actuator flex or a wheel bearing spin, any sound that would indicate a bot still capable of responding.

All he heard in reply was the sound of the Pacific, crashing against the base of the cliff.

He gazed over what was left of his home, trying to determine the best place to begin a search. There was still daylight left, and if Tony wasn't the first Stark to search for something long after others might have given up hope, he found he wasn't uncomfortable at the thought of having that trait in common with his old man.

After hours of methodical searching, under a larger section of collapsed roof, he found a bot, its base significantly damaged and barely holding enough charge to activate his arm and claw actuators. “Dummy,” he choked out, and when the bot lifted his arm strut enough to point his camera lens at Tony and give a quiet but hopeful whistle, Tony sank to his knees in the rubble in exhausted relief, running his hand over the dented and gouged chassis.

“I'm going to fix this,” he murmured. “I'll get you to the labs at SI somehow, and with a little work you'll be up and causing me grief in no time.” Tony paused, considering. “I don't know how that's going to work, exactly, but I've had a very long few days, and sleeping out under the stars in the middle of a debris field is starting to sound like a great idea.”

Dummy whistled at Tony again, and nudged him in the side with his claw assembly. 

“Tony!”

He turned at the sound of Pepper's shout behind him. She was picking her way across the field of concrete and rebar, and behind her was –

Tony rocked back on his heels, stunned. Cap, Clint, and Bruce stood by the car she – they – had arrived in, and Natasha was helping a tired-looking Coulson step out of the car.

Pepper reached Tony's side, and he looked up at her, confused. She brushed her fingers over his cheek.

“You told me not so long ago that your experience in New York changed you, but that it was over.” She glanced briefly over her shoulder. “And yet, when I called Natasha she told me that they were all together, even Bruce was headed back to New York from abroad and headed this way as soon as he landed.” She knelt next to Tony in the dust and rubble, tracing her fingers lightly over the curve of Dummy's claws. “How is he?”

The assembled Avengers approached, stopping a few feet from where Tony and Pepper knelt. Tony swallowed hard, willing his voice steady. “Going to need a lot of work. Short a workshop, so I'll have to take him to the labs at SI ... but he'll be all right.” Swallow. Pause. “I'm not sure where You and Butterfingers are in this mess.”

“Anything we can do to help is yours for the asking,” Steve said. When Tony opened his mouth to reply, Steve raised a hand. “No, we know you have more money than God; we're not offering because we think you're a charity case. It's what teammates do at times like these.”

Tony looked up at Cap, into that earnest face, and for once didn't see a national treasure or the guy that his father had been hung up on for so long; he saw someone he might one day be able to call a friend. He nodded, and Steve smiled. “So put us to work. What do you need?”

Tony looked down at Dummy. “I need to find You and Butterfingers – my other bots – and we need to get them to R&D, into a secure facility. Then food. Sleep. Not necessarily in that order.”

“I'll make the arrangements,” Natasha said. Tony turned to her, and caught her exchanging glances with Pepper, who smiled gratefully.

He found he was too tired and too preoccupied to argue.

“Thank you, Agent Romanoff.”

//

No matter how Tony might have felt about Agent Romanoff's time undercover at SI, he couldn't deny it had afforded her certain knowledge of the company that was very useful at the moment. Within ten minutes, she had arranged for a truck from the company fleet to transport the bots to SI, and gone ahead to arrange accommodations for the team at a hotel near the company's headquarters.

Night had nearly fallen by the time the last bot was accounted for. In the time it took the group to secure the severely damaged bots in the lab and drive to the hotel, the local Thai restaurant had delivered an impressive mountain of food to the suite the three SHIELD agents were sharing. 

“Excellent choice,” Tony said to Natasha as the group filed into the suite's living area.

She gave him a small smile, the kind he used to see on Natalie Rushman's face during the few weeks she was his assistant. “My boss treated me to lunch there a couple of times when I was on assignment in the area.” She nodded her head in Pepper's direction. 

Conversation ceased as the group descended upon the takeaway cartons and arranged themselves around the coffee table in whatever couches and chairs they could find. Rice and noodles disappeared quietly off of everyone's plates, and Tony was reminded of that night in the shawarma shop.

Steve cleared his throat. “We know you have a lot of work ahead of you, and we won't stay underfoot and make nuisances of ourselves if we can't be helpful. And we heard that you have a ... thing ... against sweaty workmen.”

Tony turned his head to give Pepper a horrified look.

“But we're all used to doing heavy lifting ... Phil, maybe not so much right now,” Steve amended, acknowledging the older agent's continuing recovery. “If we can help you, we'll be here. And if you need us later, we'll be here for that too.” He looked down at his plate for a moment. “We're a team. I'm just sorry that we couldn't be here for you sooner. Clearly having all of us spread across the world has its disadvantages.”

“I, well.” Tony looked at Pepper again, this time with a softer expression. “We have some decisions to make about where to go from here, what the company will require in the wake of this mess, how to go about rebuilding.” He tapped his fingers against the crystal cover of the arc reactor. “When I redesigned the tower in New York after the Chitauri invasion, I redesigned the living quarters upstairs. And included suites for the Avengers, if we ever decided to formalize our working relationship.” He glanced at Bruce. “It's been engineered, re-engineered, and reinforced against all possible acts of God, of _a_ god, of aliens, and of Other Guys.” Tony took a sip from the glass Pepper had handed him. “If we're going to be a team.”

He looked up from the bottom of the glass, around the circle. Cap was smiling softly, and Tony just knew that the word “swell” was about to come out of his mouth. The agents, slouched down together on the sofa, looked at each other; Clint nodded, and Natasha looked back at Tony with a single, slight nod that telegraphed volumes. Bruce looked thoughtful, which meant that there was going to be a more private discussion later, but Tony took it for a step in the right direction anyway.

Pepper reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Here's to second acts,” Tony offered, and drained his glass.


End file.
